Rule 9 b
by draggon-flye
Summary: 10-year-old Leigh McGee finds herself caught between school rules and Uncle Gibbs's rules. Part of the Future Perfect universe. Contains mention of spanking but nothing on-screen.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **Leigh and Katie belong to Sasha1600, though I claim adoptive parent status. The rest belong to other people. ** Story contains brief mention of spanking. Don't like; don't read. **It follows Sasha1600's story 'Rite of Passage'. **  
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Leigh smiled at the familiar scene as she stepped into the house following her early morning run. It was the morning after her family's early Thanksgiving celebration, and the last day of her three day leave. She was due back in Norfolk that afternoon, but for the moment, she was home, and the scene before her proved that more than the building around her ever could. Mama and Katie moved back and forth between the stove and the sink, cooking breakfast—omelets from the looks of it—and debating the various uses for leftover Thanksgiving turkey. Leigh was surprised that her sister, who, though she had given up her vegan campaign after only a few weeks, was still a vegetarian, would even participate in the discussion. She supposed Katie reasoned that the turkey was already dead, and it wasn't like she was going to eat anything they made with it in any case so there was no harm in talking about it. From the looks of it, Uncle Gibbs was finally getting around to repairing the laundry room door that Mama had been bugging him about for ages. Daddy, apparently, was supposed to be helping, but whether he was actually helping remain to be seen. Daddy might be a genius when it came to computers and electronics, but he was hopeless at basic mechanics and home repair. And they all knew it.

"Hey, McGee," Uncle Gibbs said suddenly, wrestling with a particularly stubborn hinge, "hand me your knife, will you?"

Daddy, who clearly hadn't been anticipating the command, fumbled in his pocket for his knife, growing more frustrated by the second as he failed to come up with it. Leigh stuck her hand in the front pouch of her hooded sweatshirt, pulled out her pocket knife, stepped across to where Daddy and Uncle Gibbs were standing, and dropped it unceremoniously into Gibbs' outstretched hand. Gibbs raised a surprise eyebrow.

Leigh shrugged. "Rule number nine," she said casually. She caught his eye and held it, grinning. "I'm of age this time."

Gibbs grinned. That was one of those memories he was sure he would never forget. He hadn't thought anything of it when Abby had called that morning. It was an unusual at all for her to call, and he figured she just needed him to pick up the girls that afternoon or something.

"What'cha got, Abs?" he asked without preamble. The question was one born of years of habit and worked equally as well for family related things as it had for test results.

"Gibbs," Abby said breathlessly, bordering somewhere between frantic and shrill. "You have GOT to talk to your goddaughter. Do you have ANY idea what I found in her book bag this morning?"

"All right, Abby," he said, running a hand over his head. "Calm down, what's going on?" Or more specifically, he thought, what has Leigh done now? Both girls were his goddaughters, but that tone of voice could only mean Leigh.

"Well, it's a good thing I checked the girls' bookbags this morning, or one of us would be having to pick Leigh up from the police department," Abby said, "and it would be your fault. You and your rules."

Gibbs sighed and closed his eyes. What had the girl gotten herself into this time?

Abby made it a habit to check the girls' bookbags after dinner every evening. They were ten now and fairly responsible, but she had learned years ago that this simple habit cut down tremendously on forgotten permission slips and last-minute baking and science projects. However, with their lives and schedules being what they were, occasionally the routine fell by the wayside. The day before had been just such a day. She and Tim had both ended up working late on a case, and by the time they had made it home, it was all they could do to get the girls fed and in bed. She had ended up doing a frantic bookbag check this morning between breakfast and running for the bus. To her utter horror, she found that Leigh, who had undoubtedly assumed she had checked them the night before as usual and wouldn't check them again until evening, had swiped her father's pocket knife and tucked it into her bag.

"And do you know what she said to me when I asked her about it?" Abby demanded. "Do you?" The question clearly wasn't meant to be answered so Gibbs didn't try. Abby didn't appear to notice. "She just shrugged and said, 'Rule Number 9, Mama' as if that explained everything."

Gibbs chuckled. Oh yeah, Leigh might be a McGee by birth, but she was his, all right.

"It's not funny, Gibbs," Abby snapped, incensed. "If the school had found it instead of me, Leigh could be facing a weapons charge right now, or worse yet, what if she had hurt herself or somebody else. Don't you understand how serious this is?"

"Of course I do," he retorted, in a tone that would have shocked anyone else into silence. He hadn't spent the majority of his life in the military and law enforcement without knowing just how dangerous kids and weapons could be. "But, come on, Abs, it's Leigh, not some punk kid with an attitude."

"Exactly," Abby countered, not the least bit phased by his tone, "it's Leigh, my child and your goddaughter, not some random stranger. If anything, that should make this more important to you, not less. Do you really want her making and childish mistake and growing up with that on her record and her conscience, all because of you and your rules?"

He sighed. Suddenly his argument that Leigh was a levelheaded kid and not likely to do anything stupid didn't seem to matter so much. He honestly didn't think Leigh carrying a pocket knife was all that dangerous. After all, it was only a pocket knife; it wasn't like she had commandeered a huge kitchen knife and was hatching plans to go after a schoolmate with it. He'd carried a pocket knife himself since he was only a little older than Leigh. Still, he could concede Abby had a point. Accidents happened, that he knew all too well, and times, circumstances, and laws had changed since he was a boy. Besides, Abby clearly expected him to fix it. Now. And he supposed it was his responsibility.

"Bring her by after school," he said. "I'll talk to her."

"Okay," Abby agreed, appeased. "But I'll warn you, she may not be in the best mood when you see her. I haven't talked to him yet, but I imagine that Tim will want to have his own 'talk' with her about his knife."

Gibbs winced despite himself. He knew pretty well just what that talk would involve, and it wasn't likely to be much talking, except of the 'hand-on' variety. It still amazed him that the terrified kid who had insisted spanking was abuse had turned it into a fairly strict dad, who wouldn't hesitate to reinforce a lesson with a sore bottom. That scared kid had come a long way.


	2. Chapter 2

He heard the girls that afternoon long before he saw them, slamming through the front door with all the force of an oncoming freight train. "Uncle Gibbs, Uncle Gibbs," Katie shouted breathlessly, "guess what?"

"What?" he asked. He reached the top of the stairs seconds before Katie launched herself at him. It was only years of practice with Abby's cannonball style hugs that allowed him to keep his balance and keep them both from tumbling down the stairs.

"These boys in my class were horsing around today," she said as he set her back on her feet, "and they bumped into my teacher's computer and made the speakers stop working. My teacher was getting really mad 'cause now we couldn't watch the video we were s'posed too. And guess what? I fixed it."

She added the last with such a look of sheer triumph that he couldn't help but laugh. "Good job," he told her.

Katie beamed. "My teacher bought me an ice cream at lunch 'cause she said I saved the day," she added proudly.

Behind her, Abby was muttering furiously under her breath about whether or not sweets were actually an appropriate reward. He raised an eyebrow and gave her a pointed look, and the muttering stopped abruptly. She might have a point nutritionally, but there was no need to ruin this for Katie with her mumbling. He didn't say anything, but Abby clearly got the message. He ruffled Katie's hair and told her she was getting to be a chip off the old block, which for some reason she found to be a hilarious expression. The resulting explosion of giggles had him and Abby both shaking their heads in amusement.

Leigh, however, didn't find anything amusing. She slumped against the wall and scowled. Abby apparently noticed this too. "Come on, giggle box," she told Katie. "Let's go see your daddy and give your sister and Uncle Gibbs some time to talk." She ushered Katie toward the door, and Katie, still giggling, waved goodbye as they went.

Turning back to Leigh, he asked, "So how was your day?" Leigh shrugged noncommittally. He didn't push for an answer. Instead, he headed for the kitchen, leaving Leigh to trail behind. He reached into the freezer, took out a couple of ice cream sandwiches, and tossed one to Leigh. Abby would probably kill him for giving her sweets before dinner, but they'd just have to deal with that later, especially since Katie had practically been flaunting her own treat. He was pretty sure it hadn't been intentional, but he was equally sure that Leigh did not see it that way.

Leigh caught it easily, but didn't open it, looking back and forth between him and the ice cream skeptically. "You're not mad at me?"

"Should I be?" he asked casually, settling back against the counter and peeling back the wrapper from his ice cream.

"No," Leigh said vehemently. "All I did was follow your rule. I don't know why Mama's making such a big deal."

"Uh huh," Gibbs said slowly, taking a bite from his ice cream, "about that. I meant that as an agent rule not a family rule."

'Well, how was I supposed to know that?" Leigh asked petulantly between bites.

Gibbs eyed her for a long moment. "You really didn't know?" Leigh shook her head. "In that case," Gibbs went on, "why didn't you just explain to your dad why you needed the knife?"

"Cause he would've said no," she said, a great deal of respect for her godfather and a healthy fear of the likely outcome should he decide she was being disrespectful kept the 'duh' from being spoken, but it was clear enough.

"Why?" Gibbs asked.

Leigh eyed him warily. She was beginning to get the sinking feeling that she was walking into a trap, but she couldn't very well not answer the question. "He would've said it wasn't safe."

"Yet you thought my rules were more important than your safety?" Gibbs wondered.

"Well, no, not exactly," Leigh replied. The moment the words left her mouth, she felt the trap she'd imagined closing around her. Sometimes, it really sucked that her whole family interrogated people for a living.

"So," Gibbs pressed, "you knew it wasn't safe, and you weren't really confused about the rule being more important." Leigh squirmed, suddenly finding the floor intensely interesting, but Gibbs wasn't done. "You want to give me one good reason why I shouldn't just turn you over my knee right now?" he asked sternly.

"Come on, Uncle Gibbs," she protested, "it's just a pocket knife. It's not dangerous. Daddy's just overreacting."

"Is that so?" Gibbs questioned. "And just what would've happened if you had gotten caught with knife at school today?"

Leigh shrugged. "I'd have gotten in trouble," she admitted reluctantly, "Probably suspended."

Gibbs shot her a stern look. "You would have been lucky to have only gotten suspended. I've seen people get arrested for less. You could've been arrested." Though he privately agreed with her, he knew he had to make the point very clear. He wasn't exaggerating; he had once known of a man who got arrested for making the mistake of having rope and a camping knife in his trunk when he got pulled over for speeding. He ended up with not only a speeding ticket but a weapons charge. He personally thought it was ridiculous, but it happened, and he knew it, and he'd be damned if he'd let it happen to his goddaughter.

"It's not fair," Leigh whined. "You and Mama and Daddy all carry knives. Why can't I?"

"We all have drivers' licenses too," Gibbs said, "and you don't. Fair or not, some things you're just not old enough for. When you're old enough, I'll buy you a pocket knife myself."

"You will?" Leigh echoed, brightening.

"I will," he confirmed, nodding with the solemnity of a vow, "but if I catch you taking it out of the house before you're of age, or ever manipulating my rules like that again, I promise you when I get through with you whatever your daddy does today will seem like a love tap, understood?"

She'd nodded, wide-eyed, with a quiet 'yes, sir' and he'd let it go at that. He'd given her the little pocket knife he now held a few years later and had granted her special permission to carry it when she started dating. She'd never to his knowledge had to use it, save as a tool like he was about to. His own utility knife was too big, but this little knife would do the trick.

"Besides," Leigh added, drawing him out of his thoughts. "I answer to McGee pretty often myself these days."

Gibbs chuckled. "Indeed you do, Ensign. Indeed you do."


End file.
